


The Admiral's Eyes

by Sarah_Black



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Davos trying to be a wingman, Drinking Games, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hook-Up, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sansa is a base bunny sort of, Stannis is an admiral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-09 12:55:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11669544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_Black/pseuds/Sarah_Black
Summary: Jeyne Poole drags Sansa Stark to a bar frequented by officers from a nearby naval base.





	1. The Bar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nevermore_red](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevermore_red/gifts).



> Big thanks to Eilit for looking this over for me and making sure I didn't make any giant mistakes regarding navy/army stuff. Any remaining silliness is all mine. Also a big thank you to Tommyginger for reading this over and giving me several awesome ideas for how to improve this, and also a few ideas that would have involved making this into a giant monster story. I managed not to do that, but I was tempted. ;)
> 
> I would also like to thank Nevermore_red for writing her awesome story [Written in Ink](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7330543) which made me want to read more stuff about military!Stannis.
> 
> This story is five chapters, and I have five days until I leave to go on vacation, so I'm going to try to post each day until I go! I'll be out of touch for a while after I leave, since I will be in a remote summerhouse in the east of Iceland with little or no internet access.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** You know the drill. GRRM would probably get weird facial tics if he knew what I was doing with his characters.

“Come _on,_ ” Jeyne whined. “It’ll be fun!”

Sansa scrunched her nose up. She didn’t look down on Jeyne for going to the bar frequented by the officers from the nearby navy base, but she’d never really been interested in going herself. She didn’t like it when Jeyne tried to drag her along.

“You know I don’t like doing the base bunny thing,” she sighed, feeling a bit guilty when Jeyne’s expression showed a flash of hurt.

“I am _not_ a base bunny,” Jeyne insisted. “I just like looking at the cute officers in their uniforms…”

“And letting them buy you drinks and charm you into bed,” Sansa said, rolling her eyes.

“Only if they’re really cute!”

Sansa smiled. “Oh, I know. You have standards.”

They both laughed.

“Okay, so maybe I am a bit of a base bunny,” Jeyne admitted, still laughing a bit. “But there’s nothing wrong with it. And the guys really are cute. And in amazing shape.”

“And in uniform,” Sansa added, raising a brow.

“Not always, but yeah… sometimes.” Jeyne grinned.

Sansa heaved a huge dramatic sigh. Jeyne had been a good friend to her when they had both lived in the north, but they had lost touch for a while. Reconnecting with her after they realised they were both attending University in King’s Landing had been fun, but Jeyne definitely stretched Sansa’s comfort zone to the limit sometimes. _It’s a good thing,_ Sansa reminded herself. _Being a snob isn’t cool._

“Fine. Just this once,” Sansa said, smiling as Jeyne squealed with delight.

***

“Come on, Stannis,” Davos said with a little smile. “One drink. It’s my nameday.”

“I don’t drink.”

“The drink doesn’t need to be alcoholic. Please. It won’t feel right to celebrate the day without you.”

Stannis sighed. It would be churlish to refuse Davos. After all, it _was_ his nameday. And it wasn’t as if Stannis had anyone waiting for him at home, or any other such reasonable excuse. “One drink. _One._ ”

Davos showed Stannis his palms in a gesture of surrender. “That’s all I’m asking.” He dropped his hands and shot Stannis a quick smile. “Well, maybe you could try to enjoy yourself, too?”

Stannis scoffed. He really didn’t like going to the bar the officers on Davos’ base liked to frequent. He had only been to the place once or twice, and it had always been the same: crawling with officers who preferred to drink without the Chief of Naval Operations frowning at them, and scantily dressed women who would insist on trying to convince him to buy them drinks no matter how fiercely he glared at them.

Last time there had even been one woman who had dared to suggest that he let her wear his hat. It was enough to make him consider wearing civilian clothing tonight.

 _No. It would not be respectful,_ Stannis thought, looking at Davos in silence. Davos was a captain, and in charge of an entire naval base. Stannis would not show up to celebrate the man’s nameday in anything less than dress blues. Even if the location where the celebration was to occur was decidedly… casual.

***

“Oh my gods,” Jeyne said, staring at a table where a bunch of older officers were seated, nursing drinks.

“What?” Sansa looked at the men, but she didn’t recognise any of them.

“That’s an _admiral,_ ” Jeyne said, her voice rising in pitch as she grabbed Sansa’s arm and squeezed it. “Look at his uniform! Count the stripes!”

Sansa guessed that the admiral had to be the guy in the impeccable dress blues with the fancy hat sitting next to his drink. There were lots of stripes on his uniform’s sleeves, but Sansa didn’t bother to count. She was more familiar with other kinds of uniforms, since the men in her family had generally served with the army rather than the navy. Except Uncle Benjen and Jon, of course. They were still serving in the coast guard, which Sansa gathered was a bit like the navy but not quite the same. In any case, Sansa trusted Jeyne to know what she was talking about. Instead of counting stripes, Sansa looked at the man’s face. He looked incredibly grumpy, but aside from that and being on the older side - his hair already receding - he wasn’t bad looking.

“What’s so special about that?” Sansa asked, trying to get Jeyne to let go of her arm. It was hot inside this bar, and since Sansa and Jeyne had only just arrived, Sansa hadn’t managed to take her jacket off yet. With Jeyne clinging on like a monkey, getting the jacket off would be a challenge.

“I’ve never seen an admiral in here before!” Jeyne exclaimed in a loud whisper. “Sometimes captains, but never _admirals._ ”

“Why do you think that is?” Sansa wondered out loud as she worked on prying Jeyne’s hands off.

“Well… usually officers don’t get promoted all the way to admiral unless they’re married. And married officers usually don’t go to these bars that much. It doesn’t look like he’s wearing a ring, though.” Jeyne squinted, obviously trying to get a good look at the man’s hands. “Maybe he’s divorced… ” she paused, looking thoughtful. “In any case, seeing someone like that in here is huge. Huge!”

Sansa had managed to free herself from Jeyne’s grip and was in the process of taking her jacket off. “I still don’t understand what the big deal is. He’s way too old for you.”

“You think so?” Jeyne looked crestfallen.

“Yes, and he looks really grumpy.”

“That’s because he doesn’t have a cute girl on his arm,” Jeyne said, perking up again.

“I don’t think that’s why he’s grumpy,” Sansa said, putting her jacket on a hook by the door. “That guy over there is checking you out, though.”

It was true. There was a handsome young man with overly developed muscles at the bar, and he was looking right at Jeyne and smiling.

“Ooh!” Jeyne perked up even further, and grinned at Sansa. “Don’t mind if I do!”

“Are you just going to go chat him up?” Sansa asked, catching Jeyne before she was able to run off. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m sure he’ll be able to call over a friend. Just come with me! He’ll buy us drinks.”

Sansa trailed after Jeyne, not feeling entirely as enthusiastic about all this as her friend seemed to.

The muscular guy was named Chad. He had a big thing for brunettes. Apparently Mike was the one who liked redheads. Mike would probably be along soon and Sansa should sit tight. But Sansa did not want to sit tight and watch as Jeyne and Chad made eyes at each other and flirted outrageously. She looked at her surroundings instead, sipping the Diet Coke Chad had been nice enough to buy for her, and wondering whether Jeyne would notice if she just got her jacket and left.

Sansa looked over at the admiral Jeyne had pointed out earlier. He looked like Sansa felt: out of place, bored, and uncomfortable. His eyes were a very dark shade of blue that Sansa hadn’t seen very often. _Pretty._ She gave him a quick smile when he caught her staring, and turned back towards her drink before he could see her blush. She usually had better manners than this. Her mother had taught her a very long time ago that it wasn’t polite to stare.

“Hello,” a friendly voice said, distracting Sansa from her thoughts about manners.

She looked around and saw a man with kind brown eyes and a neat beard looking down at her. He wasn’t wearing a uniform, but judging by the fact that he was at least forty, and by the fact that he was one of the men from the admiral’s table, Sansa guessed that he was probably someone important. She wondered whether she should get up from her barstool as a sign of respect.

“Hi,” she said, staying seated.

“I’m Captain Davos Seaworth,” he said, holding his hand out to shake. “How do you do.”

Sansa introduced herself in turn and shook Davos’ hand. He was wearing a wedding ring, so she doubted he was about to hit on her. What else might he want? She tried to catch Jeyne’s attention, but she and Chad were gazing soulfully into each other’s eyes, so Sansa was unsuccessful.

“It’s my nameday today,” Davos informed her, his eyes twinkling. “I’m here to celebrate.”

“Oh, many happy returns,” Sansa said, smiling at Davos. He seemed genuinely nice. “How come you’re over here at the bar? Shouldn’t your friends be fetching drinks for you?”

“Ah, well,” Davos cleared his throat and looked down for a second as if embarrassed. “The thing is… I noticed you looking at one of my friends.” 

Sansa blinked at Davos. She had looked at the grumpy admiral for ten seconds, tops. _Okay, maybe twenty._ Was that a crime? 

“And I noticed him noticing it,” Davos continued, his lips twitching a little. “He’s not much of a… party person, and it’s not often he shows an interest in the human beings in his surroundings.” He paused, an exasperated look flitting across his face. “He works too much.” He shook his head and sighed. “Anyway, since he seems to have noticed you, I just wondered if you might want to come over and join us?”

Sansa blinked some more. Was Davos trying to be a wingman for his admiral friend? Did he think she was a base bunny? That she’d just go over and flirt with that admiral because Davos noticed her looking at him for a few seconds?

The friendly expression on Davos’ face turned into one of worry. “I’ve offended you,” he said, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth for a moment. “I’m sorry, I’ll just go.”

Intrigued despite herself, Sansa touched his shoulder to encourage him to stay. “I’m not offended exactly,” she said slowly. “I’m just confused. What exactly do you want me to do?”

Davos shrugged a little helplessly. “Nothing,” he said, “I just thought you and my friend - his name is Stannis by the way - might like to talk to each other. You seem to be the only two people in this bar who are sober.”

Sansa looked at her bottle of Diet Coke and smiled. _True enough._

“Maybe just for a little while,” Sansa said, glancing at Jeyne and Chad again. They had started to make out. Sansa might as well not exist.

Davos beamed at her. “Would you like another drink to take with you?”

“No, I’m only halfway through this one, thank you.” She smiled and followed him over to the table where the admiral and a few other men in their late thirties or forties were sitting. Most of them had beers in front of them, but two of them were nursing whiskeys. Stannis, the admiral, was frowning down at a drink that Sansa might have mistaken for a G&T if Davos hadn’t told her the man was sober. _Club soda and a slice of lemon,_ she guessed.

“Davos, you sly dog!” one of the men said with a large grin. “What would your wife say?”

Sansa blushed and immediately regretted her choice to follow Davos.

“Don’t mind Massey,” Davos said, shooting her a reassuring smile, “he’s not to be taken seriously.”

“Hey!” Massey said, an exaggerated look of outrage on his face.

“This is Sansa Stark,” Davos said, introducing her to each of the men in turn. She had the pleasure of being in the presence of Lieutenant Commander Justin Massey, Commander Rolland Storm, Lieutenant Commander Andrew Estermont, Lieutenant Gerald Gower, and Commander Omer Blackberry.

“And this is Admiral Stannis Baratheon,” Davos said at last, pointedly gesturing at the empty chair next to the grumpy man.

_Baratheon?_

“How do you do,” Sansa said, perching herself a little nervously on the chair next to Stannis. Jeyne had been right; he was not wearing a wedding ring.

Stannis clenched his jaw noticeably. “There was no need for you to come here,” he said to her, aiming a glare at Davos.

Davos and the others had started a deep involved conversation about Dothraki screamers, however, and were ignoring the two of them. Sansa thought it was pretty suspicious that the men could have become so involved in a conversation so quickly, and decided to give this situation ten minutes at the most before making an excuse and leaving.

“It’s the Captain’s nameday,” Sansa said, “I didn’t have the heart to deny his request for me to join you all.”

Stannis scoffed and took a sip of his drink.

They said nothing for an awkward minute, but soon Sansa’s curiosity got the better of her. “Are you by any chance related to Robert Baratheon?”

Stannis grimaced. “Yes. He’s my brother.”

“That must have been so strange,” Sansa said, examining Stannis’ face closely and trying to see a family resemblance. “Having your brother be President…”

Sansa had been twelve when Robert Baratheon served his last year as President of Westeros, and all she could really remember about him was that there had been some sort of scandal. _Alcoholism?_ In any case, Stannis’ face seemed very different from what she remembered of Robert Baratheon’s. He had a very square, masculine jaw that wasn’t covered in a beard as Robert’s had been, and his expression was hard and forbidding rather than open and friendly.

Stannis clenched his prominent jaw shut, and seemed unlikely to unclench anytime soon. Clearly he did not enjoy discussing his famous brother.

“My brother’s in politics too,” Sansa said, “he recently got elected as Senator of the North. He set a record since he’s only twenty-seven. But since Dad was the most popular Mayor of Winterfell that has ever been elected, it wasn’t really a huge surprise.”

“You’re Robb Stark’s sister?” Stannis’ surprise seemed to have made him unclench for a moment. “Ned Stark’s daughter?”

Sansa nodded and took a sip of her Coke. She usually didn’t like to draw attention to it, though her family name had been a big point of pride once. She had thought that enjoying all the privileges of being rich and having an ‘important’ family had made her special. Better than other people. Coming to the south and studying at her University had opened her eyes. She wasn’t better than anyone else. Just luckier. And it was tacky to rub people’s noses in her privilege. Stannis was more privileged than she would ever be, however, so she didn’t feel like she was rubbing his nose in anything. And maybe he’d warm up to her if he knew they both had big time politicians in their families. She understood what it was like.

“What are you doing in the south?” Stannis asked, glaring at her as if it were unforgivably rude of her to be so far from Winterfell. He did not seem to be warming up to her.

“Studying,” she said simply. “I’m doing a masters in literature.”

Stannis snorted.

Sansa was used to that reaction from people, though most people tried to be more polite. “I’m guessing you don’t think it’s a useful field of study?” she said, raising a brow.

“You’ll end up as a teacher. Or on welfare.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I always thought I’d marry rich and spend my days at the spa…”

Stannis went still and gave her a very suspicious look. He didn’t seem to know whether she was being serious or not.

“Kidding,” Sansa said, helping him out. Although, when she had been younger, there had been a time when she had seriously thought that would be her future. _Silly Sansa._

He didn’t seem amused.

The conversation about the Dothraki screamers wound down, and there was a quiet moment at the table.

“That’s it, this party is getting boring,” Massey suddenly said. “I’m going to get us a few rounds of shots, and we’re playing a drinking game.”


	2. The Game

Sansa gave Stannis a sidelong glance. He looked as if someone had suggested they all go out to drown puppies. _Such enthusiasm,_ she thought to herself, resisting the temptation to roll her eyes.

“I’ll play,” she said, deciding that she absolutely could not be on the sober team with Admiral Grumpy anymore. She knew how to have a good time.

The men all made agreeable sounds and a few of them lifted their drinks to toast her.

“Won’t you play, too?” she said to Stannis, certain that he’d say no.

For a second he looked absolutely nonplussed. Then he scowled. “No.”

She gave him an overly sweet smile. “Probably for the best,” she said. “From what I can remember of your brother, he always tended to embarrass himself when he drank. It’s responsible of you not to take the risk.”

An awful noise reached Sansa’s ears, and after shuddering, she realised Stannis was grinding his teeth. “I’m nothing like Robert,” he said, glaring at her with those incredible blue eyes of his.

_Someone who spends all his time glaring doesn’t deserve such pretty eyes._

“Really? Why don’t you join us, then?” she said, tilting her head to the side.

Stannis looked ready to explode. “One shot,” he finally said through gritted teeth.

There was a loud cheer from the men at the table, and soon they all had shots in front of them, and the atmosphere became charged with anticipation.

“All right,” Massey said, “the rules of the game are simple. When you’re it, you ask a question that can either be answered with a yes, a no, or a number. We go around in a circle, and everyone answers the question. Anyone can call bullshit on anyone at any time, and if you’re caught in a lie, you have to drink.”

Sansa nodded. It seemed simple enough. A modified version of truth or dare.

“I’ll go first,” Massey said with a wide grin. “How many people have you fucked?”

Davos shifted uncomfortably. “Massey, there is a lady present.”

“So? She looks grown up to me.” Massey shrugged.

“It’s fine,” Sansa said, determined not to show any sign of weakness in front of the grumpy admiral. “Carry on.”

They went around in a circle, and each man named a number. Rolland Storm was the first who named a number (fifty) that the others called bullshit on. He cursed a blue streak and took a shot.

Sansa was determined not to blush when it was her turn. “Two,” she said, keeping her face completely straight.

“Bullshit!” Massey shouted. “Dish like you… ! I don’t believe it.”

Sansa raised an eyebrow and didn’t touch her glass. There was an outbreak of whistling and chuckling. Stannis shifted in his seat. He was next.

“Ten,” he said, scowling down at the table.

Davos’ eyebrows rose all the way to his hairline. “Bullshit!” he said, a note of incredulity in his voice.

That awful noise assaulted Sansa’s ears again. _His poor teeth,_ Sansa thought, glancing at Stannis.

Stannis took a shot. His cheeks were a little redder than they had been before.

Sansa wondered whether his real number was lower or higher. Most men would probably lie to make it sound like they’d had more partners than they truly had, but with this one… she really couldn’t get a good read.

The next question came from Gower. “Ever done it in water?” he asked with a wicked grin.

“What, like in the ocean? At the beach?” Blackberry asked.

“Ocean, pool, hot tub, bath tub…” Gower said, shrugging.

“Probably better in a hot tub than in the ocean,” Blackberry said, wincing theatrically. “Sand gets bloody everywhere!”

There was an outbreak of laughter.

Nearly all the men said yes to the question. Sansa giggled when they called bullshit on Massey and he glared at them as he drank his shot. Davos and Stannis said no, but to Sansa’s surprise Andrew Estermont called bullshit on Davos, and he gave a sheepish shrug and took a shot while the others howled with amusement. Sansa had done it in the shower once or twice, but she didn’t think that counted.

“Zero,” she said, giving a sheepish shrug.

Blackberry shook his head. “Bullshit!”

Sansa looked at her shot and bit her lip. “Does the shower count?” she asked, looking around at the men, still chewing her lip.

Massey shrugged. “Why not? Drink the shot!”

The others chanted for her to drink, and Sansa decided to go ahead and take the shot. Admiral Grumpy had already taken one after all, and she wasn’t going to be a shrinking violet tonight.

She downed the shot - shuddering a little as it burned its way down her throat - and everyone cheered. She felt a peculiar warmth spread out from the bit of her stomach to her limbs, making her feel mellow and relaxed. A lazy smile tugged at her lips, and she shot Stannis a quick look. He was studiously avoiding her eyes.

The next few questions were similar, and Sansa admitted that she had never had sex on a boat, or in an airplane, or in a car. Gower called bullshit on the car one, and Sansa was forced to ask whether a limo counted as a car. The men howled and whistled and made her take a shot. Stannis was about as unadventurous as she was, though he did admit to having done the deed on a boat. Most of the others had managed to divide and conquer in nearly all the different settings. 

Now it was Davos’ turn to think of a question.

“Ever been in love?” Davos asked, causing the others to groan and roll their eyes.

“What a boring question,” Omer Blackberry complained.

Sansa was supposed to answer first. “No,” she said, feeling a small twinge of sadness. _Twenty-three, two boyfriends, and never in love. How pathetic._

“Bullshit!” Gower said. “Girls are always falling in love.”

Sansa didn’t drink. All eyes turned to look at Stannis.

“No,” he bit out through clenched teeth. No one dared call bullshit on him, and they moved on to Massey. Sansa didn’t pay attention to the answers the others gave. She was examining Stannis out of the corner of her eye, wondering how he had managed to make it to forty-something without falling in love.

“Miss Stark,” Davos said, drawing her out of her thoughts. “It’s your turn.”

“Oh. Right,” she said, looking around at the expectant faces that were fixed on her. “Um…” Her mind was completely blank.

“Come on, give us a good one!” Massey shouted, leering at her in a way that was so over the top that it made her giggle.

“Have you ever had sex and regretted it?” Sansa asked, wondering whether the question would be considered a ‘good one’. Judging by the eyerolls around the table it didn’t pass muster.

Stannis was the first to answer. He said no, but his expression betrayed so much discomfort that Rolland Storm declared bullshit with a laugh. “When haven’t you regretted it, Baratheon?” he added, still chortling. “You act like it’s a chore, you strange bastard.”

Stannis scowled and took a shot with a grimace.

Every single man at the table had regretted sex at some point. Even Davos. Sansa hoped for his sake that he had never regretted sex with his wife, though.

“Baratheon, you’re up!” Massey said, lifting a glass in Stannis’ direction.

Stannis was still scowling, but somehow the scowl became more pronounced. “How many times did you cry in boot camp?” he asked with a glare.

Sansa looked around at the men at the table, wondering how they’d react to the question. Most of them looked amused.

“I cried at least ten times in the first fortnight,” Massey said, chuckling into his beer. Most of the others had similar numbers to share, and Rolland Storm told a story about a drill sergeant that nearly made him wet himself, too.

Sansa’s zero went unchallenged as she had never been to boot camp, but she couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the men, even though they seemed to treat it all like a joke.

“Boot camp must have been very rough,” she said, sending the men at the table sympathetic looks. “Being away from your families and all that training…”

The men shifted in their chairs and nodded. “Aye, but it was a long time ago for us old geezers,” Estermont said. “Water under the bridge.”

“You’re not old,” Sansa said, smiling at them. “If you were old you’d be in bed by now.”

“If I were young I’d have _you_ in my bed by now,” Massey said with a wink and a wide smile.

Sansa let out a startled laugh and ducked her head to hide a blush.

“Which brings me to the next question,” Massey continued, looking at each of the men at the table in turn. “Are you thinking about giving Davos some sort of medal for convincing Miss Stark to sit here?” His gaze lingered on the admiral’s face a little longer than on anyone else’s.

“Hell yes,” Gower said with a laugh, lifting his bottle of beer to toast Sansa and Davos.

The others all agreed. When the time came for Stannis to answer, he crossed his arms and shook his head, glowering down at the table.

“Bull. Shit,” Massey said with a shit-eating grin.

Stannis did not take a shot.

Sansa didn’t know why that made her feel like leaving. _He’s just a rude grumpy man, Sansa,_ she told herself. _Not everyone has to like you all the time._

Everyone was laughing, and then Gower continued the game by asking how many times they’d been caught masturbating, shooting Rolland Storm a significant look. This caused even more laughter to break out, and everyone except Sansa looked at Rolland Storm hide his face with his hands. For some reason she couldn’t quite explain to herself, Sansa kept her eyes surreptitiously on Stannis. 

He used the time while everyone was distracted to take a shot.

Her heart skipped a beat.

She didn’t think Stannis took the shot because he wanted a drink. No, she was almost certain that he was doing it because he had lied when he had insisted that he didn’t think Davos deserved a medal for bringing her.

_He’s pleased I’m here._

As soon as he put his glass back down he noticed her discreet stare. He froze for a moment, swallowed, and then looked away. The tips of his ears turned bright red.

The alcohol and the jolly atmosphere warmed Sansa all the way down to her toes. Maybe she had been too harsh on Stannis. Maybe he was just one of those people who always had their shields up. He wasn’t that rude, really… and he did have very pretty eyes…


	3. The Principle of the Thing

_Fuck._

Why had she noticed him take the shot? Why had he even taken it? It was just a stupid game. It wasn’t as if lying about something in a stupid game could do any damage to his reputation.

He clenched his jaw as a righteous voice from within insisted that it was the principle of the thing.

For once in his life he wished that voice would just _shut up._

“I was thirsty,” he heard himself say.

Sansa raised a brow. Her eyes were full of warmth and amusement, and Stannis was having a hard time looking away.

He’d been having a hard time looking away from her since the moment she had walked into this seedy little bar. There was something about her that just screamed that she did not belong here. She was dressed casually in jeans, heels, and a simple, feminine shirt, but she carried herself with the sort of elegance and poise that would not have been out of place at a presidential ball. And her face… she had a face straight out of a painting: pale and smooth and flawless. Huge, beautiful eyes and rose petal lips. Too good for this seedy little bar. Too good to be _real._

Of course she was Ned Stark’s daughter. Of course she was practically a _princess._ Westeros hadn’t had a royal family since the Revolution, but the Stark family was one of the few that came close. His own family was another.

“Zero,” Sansa said, smiling at Gower.

For a moment Stannis was confused, but then he remembered that the idiotic drinking game was still in full swing. What had the question been again?

“Baratheon? How many times have you been caught spanking the monkey?” Gower asked, chuckling to himself like a schoolboy.

“Zero,” he said, glaring at Gower. Thankfully it was the truth. He had always been discreet about such things. Unlike Robert. But Stannis would not think about that right now.

The alcohol coursing through his veins wanted him to think about the way Sansa had looked at him when she had been sitting over at the bar. _Him._ Like he’d been the only man in the room. It had been utterly captivating.

He shook his head slightly and frowned. Thoughts like these served no purpose. He was too old for her, and even if he wasn’t, he was fairly sure he had managed to put her off during the first few minutes of their conversation. He hadn’t intended to, but it was usually what happened whenever he tried to talk to a woman he actually wanted to impress.

More raunchy questions were asked. More laughter. More shots.

Sansa looked stunning when she laughed. She was sitting very close to him, and he could smell her perfume whenever she tossed her long hair away from her face. _Citrus… and jasmine._

Despite the inappropriate questions he was being forced to answer, and the disgusting alcohol, he never wanted this night to end.

“How often have you proposed to someone?” Davos asked at one point, lifting his bottle of beer in Massey’s direction and grinning. Massey glared. Everyone knew that Massey had been forced to propose three times to his wife. The woman had kept rejecting him. It was considered an amusing story, but Stannis had never had the patience for it.

“Zero,” Sansa said.

“Zero,” Stannis followed, feeling irritated by the question. His superior officers had never been able to understand why he couldn’t just go and pick himself a wife. _Don’t you know how the system works?_ they would ask. Didn’t he know everyone would feel more comfortable promoting him if he just lived his life like officers in the navy were supposed to? Yes, Stannis knew. But Stannis had always lived for his _work._ It was important to him, and no woman he had ever met had understood that. Understood _him._

Sometimes Stannis wondered whether he’d ever have made it past Captain if it weren’t for his family name.

 _I did well in the Greyjoy Rebellion,_ he reminded himself. _Perhaps that would have been enough._

Unable to help himself, Stannis cast Sansa a sidelong glance. With a father and brother like Ned and Robb Stark she might very well understand a man who wished to spend his life doing what he could for his country. And she had to be intelligent if she was pursuing a degree in higher education. Now that he’d had a chance to think about it, her choice to study literature meant that she was likely to enjoy reading and writing: hobbies that he thoroughly approved of and aligned well with his own interests. He could see himself supporting her efforts to pursue a career in publishing, or possibly as a novelist or even a teacher -- if that was what she wanted.

He made himself look away. There was no point letting himself get carried away. Even if she was a disturbingly perfect prospect - _intelligent, good family, well connected, beautiful_ \- she would never want _him._

 _And I’m already an admiral,_ he reminded himself firmly. _I don’t need a wife to further my career._

He tried to listen as Massey began to tell a curious Sansa the stories of all his proposals.

 _Although…_ a voice from the back of his mind piped up. _There were those whispers about the possibility of the rank of fleet admiral…_

Stannis gave Sansa another discreet glance. She was brimming with youth, beauty, charm, and every good grace a woman could possibly possess.

 _Unattainable,_ he told himself. _Pointless to even think about it._ Besides, he was certainly not the sort of man who would sink to the level of marrying just so that he might chase a pipe dream of a promotion that no one had achieved in decades.

 _No, you’d marry her just to have her all to yourself,_ whispered an amused voice that reminded Stannis of Renly.

There was an outbreak of happy cheers when Captain Salladhor Saan suddenly arrived, late as ever, interrupting Massey’s story about proposal number three. He brought a tray of shots with him, but no chair. The bar had been filling with people, and there did not seem to be any free seats.

“Just sit under Miss Stark over there,” Rolland Storm suggested to Saan, waggling his eyebrows.

“Looks like the best seat in the house,” Saan said, putting the tray of shots down and heading straight for Sansa.

Stannis wanted to object, but he didn’t want everyone to realise _why_ he was objecting, so he bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself.

Sansa stood up to make room for Captain Saan, but when Saan patted his thigh with a leer, Sansa just smiled sat down on top of Stannis instead.

He forgot to breathe for a while. _Why do I have so many hands?_ he wondered, trying to find suitable places to put them. Nowhere seemed right.

The men at the table were all laughing uproariously, but it seemed they were mostly amused at Captain Saan’s expense. No one seemed to have noticed how flustered Stannis was.

“Is this okay?” Sansa said directly into his ear. It was a good thing she did as he wouldn’t have heard her otherwise, but it was also a very bad thing to have her lips almost pressed to the shell of his ear. Very _very_ bad.

“Fine,” he managed to choke out, sweat springing up all over his back. He still didn’t know what to do with his hands. They were just hovering oddly in the air.

Sansa shifted her weight. His legs had been apart when she had decided to sit with him, so rather than sit sideways across both his thighs, she had perched herself on just his left. Thankfully she wasn’t too close to his groin. Stannis was certain that would have become awkward very fast. He was having a hard time keeping certain body parts under control as it was. And his mind… his mind was spinning.

_Perhaps not so unattainable after all…?_

“Are you sure? You seem uncomfortable.” She looked at his hands, still hovering awkwardly in the air.

He hastily put one hand on her back to support her, telling himself that he was only doing it to make sure she knew he was definitely not uncomfortable. He was a grown man. Having a girl sit on top of him was something that had happened before. He reached for his club soda with the other hand, taking a quick gulp.

Saan captured everyone’s attention after that, giving Stannis an opportunity to collect himself. Apparently, Captain Saan had been told about the idiotic drinking game, and wanted them to keep playing.

Somehow, with a lapful of Sansa Stark, that didn’t seem like such a terrible thing.

“Whose turn is it?” Massey asked, looking around.

“I think it’s my turn,” Gower said, taking a pull from his bottle of beer. He appeared to think hard as he swallowed. “Ever come in your pants?” he finally asked, snorting with laughter.

Stannis changed his mind. This was a terrible, awful game, and he no longer wanted to play.

Estermont was the first to answer, and he admitted that he had been unfortunate enough to have such an accident, his expression sheepish and amused. “Not recently, though!” he added when everyone laughed.

Blackberry and Davos admitted the same, insisting as Estermont had that it had been a long time ago.

Sallador Saan declared that he had never done it, and when Gower called bullshit, Saan refused to drink. “If my cock’s getting ready to blow, you best believe I’m getting it out of my fucking pants!” he shouted, causing the others to roar in approval.

All eyes turned to look at Sansa next.

“Uh,” she began, furrowing her brow, “I suppose for me the question is whether I’ve had an orgasm without taking my clothes off?” Her face was a little pink.

The others all laughed and nodded.

“Well, yes…” Sansa said, turning pinker still.

Stannis’ head suddenly filled with illicit images as his mind tried to work out how she had managed to get off without being naked. Had she been rubbing herself through her clothes? Rubbing against something? Someone? Straddling someone’s body… riding a man’s thigh maybe? 

The thigh she was currently sitting on suddenly felt very hot.

 _Stop, stop._ He took a deep breath. He could not afford to think like this right now.

“Baratheon?” Everyone was staring at him.

“What?” he barked, feeling his face heat up as much as his thigh.

“Ever come in your pants?” snickered Blackberry.

“No,” Stannis lied, narrowing his eyes and glaring at the surrounding officers, daring them to challenge him. He didn’t care that most of the others had admitted to it. He did not want Sansa to think of him doing something so… embarrassing.

“Bullshit,” Saan said lazily, raising a haughty eyebrow.

Stannis could feel Sansa’s eyes on him. He wondered whether he should try to pull the same trick as before and refuse to drink until everyone was distracted.

No convenient distraction presented itself. Everyone was staring. The bar suddenly felt much smaller than it had a minute ago.

He was about to bite the bullet and take the shot - honestly, he had been _thirteen_ \- when a feminine squeal finally provided the distraction he had been hoping for.

“Ohmygods Sansa!” the high-pitched voice said. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Jeyne!” Sansa said, smiling happily at the brunette who had walked over with a very muscular ensign in tow. The man’s face was liberally smeared with lipstick, and he was wearing a dopey grin.

Stannis was sure no one noticed him sneak a shot this time. Not even Sansa. It burned on the way down, and his blood started to run much too hot. How many shots had he taken now? Five? Six? _Too many._

“I was so worried that you left, but obviously you’re having fun with the _admiral_ ,” the brunette, Jeyne, said, giggling and swaying alarmingly on her feet. The muscular ensign helped her regain her balance and she shot him a sappy, adoring look. “Chad and I were just thinking about leaving. Do you want to go, too?”

Stannis held his breath while Sansa made her decision. He hoped she would stay.

“I think I’ll stay a bit longer,” Sansa said, and Stannis let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“You’ll be okay?” Jeyne asked, scrunching her face up in concern.

“Don’t worry, _the admiral_ will take good care of your friend,” Massey piped up with a wolfish grin.

Stannis glared at Massey, but wasn’t really that annoyed. He wouldn’t mind taking care of Sansa. And it was his duty as the most superior officer present, and as the man at this table who had definitely had the least to drink.

Jeyne still appeared worried.

“I’ll be fine,” Sansa said, her tone reassuring.

“If you’re sure…”

To Stannis’ relief, everyone seemed to have forgotten about the drinking game by the time Jeyne and Chad the muscular ensign had finished saying goodbye to Sansa. But to his consternation, they seemed to have forgotten about the game because they had decided it would be amusing to start dropping obvious hints about how Stannis might benefit from having lipstick smeared all over his face like Chad.

He was about to use his harshest I-am-your-superior-officer-so-you-better-shut-up-and-listen voice when Sansa surprised him by stopping their comments all on her own.

“You’re all bullies,” she said, glaring around at the drunk men. “But if it will shut you up…”

Stannis didn’t have time to register her words before he felt her soft lips pressing against his cheek. 

_It was just a peck,_ he told himself as the men roared with delight and made several toasts. _Nothing to get excited about._

And yet his heart was racing, and he was perspiring in a way that had nothing to do with the heat of the room or the alcohol that was warming him from within.

For the next few minutes Stannis kept himself very still, and enjoyed the way Sansa occasionally shifted around on top of his thigh, the way she put her arm around his shoulders after she nearly lost her balance when Saan started gesturing a bit too wildly beside her, and the way she shook when she laughed.

“Aren’t you hot?” Sansa asked him after a while, speaking into his ear again.

“I’m fine,” he said, speaking into her ear in turn. It was hard to resist the temptation to close his eyes and inhale as deeply as he could. The citrusy scent of her was so strong now that she was so close...

Her hand came up to touch his face. She caught a drop of sweat and showed it to him. “I think your uniform is too stuffy for this place.”

Stannis’ throat had closed. He couldn’t respond to her. All he could do was hope that she would touch his face like that again.

“Here, I’ll help,” Sansa said, her voice full of mischief.

Before he could muster a reply, Sansa had picked his cover up from where it had been resting beside his drink, and started to fan him with it. It felt pretty good, but it was a _completely_ inappropriate thing to do with his cover.

“Stop that,” he said, glowering at her.

She smiled.

And then Sansa Stark was wearing his cover. It was even more inappropriate than fanning him with it, and it was setting a very bad example, and generally not a good idea, but _fuck_ it was arousing. She looked much better in it than he ever had, even though it was slightly too big for her.

“That’s really inappropriate,” he said, his mouth dry and his voice hoarse.

Sansa gave him a slightly incredulous look, though there was still warmth and amusement in her eyes.

“Excellent!” Saan exclaimed. “Now that you can see what a bore Baratheon really is, perhaps you’ll want to give me a try instead?” He opened his arms and smiled. “I’ll let you wear my cover until the cows come home!”

Sansa pressed herself closer to Stannis, moving to sit practically on top of his groin, though not _quite._ Her arm tightened around his shoulder, and without really meaning to, Stannis moved the hand that had been resting lightly on her back to envelope her in a sort of one-armed hug.

It was the closest he’d been to a woman since the last time he’d had one in his bed.

“No thanks,” Sansa said to Saan, her voice overly sweet.

“Face it, Saan,” Estermont said, shaking his head, “the girl’s too smart to trade an admiral for a captain.”

Everyone laughed except Stannis. The seed of hope that had started to sprout roots within him seemed to wither and die. _Is that it?_ Was Sansa only sitting on top of him and trying on his cover because she was like every other silly woman who had ever approached him at one of these infernal bars: dazzled by the uniform and the power and prestige it represented?

He wondered, with a twinge of guilt, whether he _cared._

 _Of course I care,_ he told himself, his jaw muscles aching. He hated false friends, and he hated duplicitous women even more.

“No, I’m too smart to trade a decent man who hasn’t tried to pinch my ass or talk to my breasts all evening for a scoundrel who hasn’t met my eyes _once_ ,” Sansa said archly once the laughter faded away.

Saan hid his face in his hands while everyone else burst into renewed peals of laughter. 

_A decent man._

Stannis didn’t laugh, but he felt the knot in his stomach loosen. _Perhaps she isn’t duplicitous after all…_

“At least I have a full head of hair,” Saan grumbled, glaring around at everyone who was laughing, and huffing out a dramatic breath.

Stannis scowled at him.

“I like your hair,” Sansa said into his ear once the conversation at the table had moved on.

“What hair?” he muttered back, aiming a halfhearted glare at her.

She just smiled and ran her free hand through his short hair, starting where it was beginning to recede and ending at the nape of his neck. She didn’t seem to mind that his hair was a little sweaty due to the heat of the bar and his stuffy uniform. She even lingered at the back of his head, scratching him lightly with her nails and tugging on the short hairs.

He shuddered with pleasure, unable to repress the reaction.

 _I have to get her to stop,_ he thought wildly, knowing that there was another physical reaction he wouldn’t be able to repress if she kept this up.

“Do you need a fresh drink?” he managed to say, though his voice sounded a little too strained.

“Maybe,” Sansa said, shifting around until she was practically _torturing him._ There was no way he’d be able to keep from… reacting... for more than a minute with her sitting on top of him like this. And… was she still moving? Why was she still moving?

He made an involuntary strangled noise when she wriggled up against a particularly sensitive spot, causing the semi he had been managing to control for a while now to cross over into completely inappropriate erection territory.

Sansa froze for a second. 

Stannis’ heart pounded uncomfortably in his chest and he braced himself, wondering if he was about to be shouted at. Or slapped.

 _So much for being the decent man who hasn’t pinched her ass or talked to her breasts,_ he thought miserably. He was fairly sure that what he was doing right now was worse than those two things, even though he wasn’t doing it on purpose.

“Actually, I think I don’t need a drink after all.” Sansa said, pressing herself more firmly against him and shooting him a shy smile. It was hard to tell since the bar’s lights were dimmer now than they had been before.

“Oh?” he choked out. Did she mean that she liked it? Or was she just being polite?

 _Don’t be an idiot,_ a voice that sounded uncannily like Robert said. _No woman on earth is that polite._

She bit her bottom lip and nodded. 

Seeing her bite her lip would have been quite enough on its own, but of course she also moved her ass in a tiny slow circle, forcing him to clench his jaw shut to keep from groaning.

The music that Stannis had been ignoring the entire night had been turned up when the lights had been dimmed, but he would have continued to ignore it if Sansa hadn’t closed her eyes and started to hum along with the current song -- still grinding herself slowly against the bulge in his dress trousers.

“I think the lady wants to dance,” Saan said, shooting Stannis a sly smirk, and offering Sansa his hand.

Stannis glared at Saan for daring to interrupt the highly erotic moment he’d been having with Sansa.

“Oh,” Sansa said, “I’d love to dance.”

She got to her feet. Saan got up too, looking expectant. But instead of giving Saan the time of day, she tugged on Stannis’ arm, making it clear that she wanted him to get up.

Saan sat back down, looking forlorn. Davos patted him on the back consolingly.

“I don’t dance,” Stannis told Sansa, frowning. At least not like the people on the makeshift dance floor were dancing. He waltzed at certain events when it was required of him, but he did not flail about like the drunken imbeciles at this bar.

“Come on,” Sansa said, holding onto the hat she was still wearing while she dragged him over to the dancers. She found a dark corner and planted herself there, steering him so that his back was to the wall.

“I really don’t dance,” he repeated when she gave him a look he couldn’t quite read.

“Not even like this?” she asked, winding her arms around his neck and pressing her body close. She started to sway as if the music were slow.

He cleared his throat. His erection had gone down a bit since Sansa stood up, but now that she was pressing herself against him again it was swelling back up eagerly. “I - well - perhaps,” he stammered, feeling certain that he hadn’t made such a fool of himself since he was a teenager.

She smiled at him, and gave him an encouraging nod when he hesitantly put his hands on her waist.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot and enjoyed the way Sansa pressed herself against him, moving her hips slowly from side to side and stroking the hair at the back of his head again.

He wanted to let himself enjoy it. He wanted to ignore the voice at the back of his head that was shouting at him that beautiful young women did not throw themselves at him. At his uniform, sometimes yes, but not at _him._ Sansa had talked to him. She knew he wasn’t… charming. She had heard his answers in the stupid drinking game, so she knew he didn’t have a wealth of sensual knowledge to share.

What did she want?

“Why are you doing this?” he asked her after a while. He was forced to practically shout it into her ear since the music and the noise of all the chatter in the bar was so loud.

“Doing what?” she asked, blinking innocently at him.

“Don’t pretend I _charmed_ you,” he said, frowning at her. “Why are you throwing yourself at me? You could have any man you wanted.” _Or woman,_ he thought, trying to be inclusive. Renly was always telling him off for being ‘heteronormative’.

“I like your eyes,” Sansa said, tilting her head back to get a better look at him from beneath the hat. “They’re honest.”

“My brothers always say I’m _too_ honest,” Stannis muttered, knowing Sansa probably wouldn’t be able to hear him. She was looking at him with an open expression, and there was a hint of naïveté to it. Possibly only because she seemed a little childlike while she wore his too-big cover. Still, there was nothing childlike about the look in her eyes. Her pupils were dilated, her lids were heavy, and everything about her gaze pulled him in.

At the back of his mind, the part of him that was too honest muttered something about how he should be stopping and asking to take Sansa on a respectful date.

He watched as she licked her lips, and was lost to the much more primitive part of him that was insisting that he should take whatever she offered him and be damn grateful.

Instinct guided his lips to hers, and she was so willing… so eager. He didn’t know when he’d last had a warm, soft woman in his arms, kissing him like he was her first, her last, her _favourite._ She tasted of alcohol and the cola drink she had been sipping, and her tongue was nimble and quick. He followed her lead and tried to curl his own tongue the way she did, and when she sucked on his lower lip he took it as permission to suck on hers when he next got the chance. _Lush,_ he could not help but think. Her lips were utterly lush. After a while Stannis had to remind himself to breathe through his nose lest he suffocate and die a happy man.

The softness of her lips and the wet slide of tongue against tongue felt better in this moment with her than it had ever felt, and Stannis wondered whether it was just because of the alcohol and the excitement of doing this with someone he had only known for a matter of hours. He had never progressed to this stage with a woman after so short an acquaintance before.

 _At least now I know where to put my hands,_ he thought, letting them roam from her shoulder blades and down to the small of her back, up and down, again and again. She was wearing a thin shirt of some soft material, but he imagined that he was touching her bare back, and his hips bucked accordingly. He considered letting his hands wander below her waist and all the way to the back pockets of her tight jeans, but decided to wait.

“Do you want to go somewhere?” Sansa said into his ear, her hands exploring his biceps through his jacket.

“I - I have a hotel room,” he answered, his heart pounding. He was only in the city for Davos’ nameday. Tomorrow he was meant to go back to the naval station on Dragonstone.

“Okay,” she said kissing his neck.

They made out in their dark little corner of the bar for a little longer, but eventually Sansa broke away.

“Let’s go,” she said, smiling at him in a way that was both shy and mischievous.

He nodded and followed her, hoping that the bulge at the front of his trousers wasn’t too noticeable.


	4. Seduce the Admiral

Sansa honestly didn’t know how the evening had turned into this game of _Seduce the Admiral_. Perhaps it had started when she had made that impulsive choice to sit in his lap. It had been hard not to notice how built he was with his hard thigh underneath her, and those broad shoulders just right there, looking all… manly.

But no. She knew that it had started before that.

Maybe it had started as soon as she noticed how beautiful his eyes were, and how out of place he had been.

 _He’s still too old,_ she scolded herself as she looked for her jacket among the many that were hanging off the pegs by the door. _Since when do I like receding hairlines, anyway?_

But if age was measured in experience rather than in years or the number of hairs on one’s head… was he really all that older than she was? In some ways he was vastly more experienced, she had no doubt about that, but neither one of them had ever been in love. Neither one of them had been married. When it came to relationships, they seemed to be on equal ground.

She didn’t really understand it, but there was just something… intoxicating about the way he had gone from being so cool and standoffish to being putty in her hands. So even though she couldn’t make total sense of it, she knew she wanted him to take her to his hotel and kiss her some more. Because he kissed her like he didn’t believe she was real. Like he thought she might disappear at any second. _And gods… his hands…_ She wanted him to touch her everywhere with those hands.

This was not something she had ever done before, but if Jeyne could do it, so could Sansa. There was nothing bad or wrong about it.

They were just two people who wanted to share each other.

She _really_ wanted her share of the hard length she had been rubbing up against for a while.

For a moment she closed her eyes and shivered in anticipation.

 _And who knows? Maybe it will lead somewhere?_ Robb and his wife had started a relationship after they’d hooked up at a party. The old snobby Sansa had turned her nose up at Robb when he’d told her the story, but the old snobby Sansa had been wrong about a lot of things.

With her jacket on, and her little purse hanging off her wrist, she was ready to leave.

“Do you want your hat back?” she asked as they crossed the threshold to the outside world, cool air soothing her fevered skin.

Stannis shook his head. His eyes glittered in the light from the nearest streetlamp. “It looks better on you,” he said.

She smiled. “I know what you mean. I think my lipstick looks better on you.”

Stannis looked dismayed for a second, but recovered quickly. “Do I look like that Chad person?” he asked, sighing.

“A little,” she giggled, feeling warm and exhilarated.

A trace of the grumpy expression Stannis had worn for the first half of the evening appeared on his face, but it vanished when he spotted a taxi. He hailed it, and the car stopped for them.

They managed to behave themselves for an entire minute in the backseat. But then Sansa gave him a sidelong glance and bit her lip, and instantly they were kissing again.

She loved the way he cradled her face with his large hands, and she loved the rough texture of his skin and how it contrasted with the softness of his lips and tongue. Most of all she loved the way his breathing became ragged and laboured almost at once, and the way he groaned when she sucked on his bottom lip.

“Have a good night,” the taxi driver said with a leer after Stannis paid him.

“I’ve never done that before,” Stannis confessed as the taxi sped off, offering her his arm.

She took it, smiling to herself at the old fashioned gesture. “Done what?”

“Made out like a teenager in the back of a taxi,” Stannis said, arching a brow. “It’s not entirely seemly.”

Sansa hummed. “Think of it this way,” she said, nodding at the bemused doorman as he ushered them inside the hotel lobby, “the next time we play a drinking game, we’ll have more experiences in the bank.”

“You speak as if that’s a good thing.” Stannis pursed his lips, but there was a light in his eyes that told Sansa he was far from annoyed.

The hotel lobby was almost empty. There was an overly caffeinated receptionist and a sleepy bellhop, but Sansa ignored them both. She wanted to get to the elevator. She wanted to be alone with Stannis.

Unfortunately there was an elevator operator inside the elevator. _Of course._

Sansa tried to keep a straight face as she watched the operator process the two of them. She could see in the full length mirror that they looked rather… debauched. Both their lips were red and a little swollen, and Stannis wasn’t the only one who had lipstick smeared around his mouth. He was the only one with a very clearly defined lipstick mark on the middle of his cheek, however. A perfect imprint of her lips. And of course, she was still wearing his hat. In short, they looked like an utter cliché.

Sansa loved it.

“Penthouse?” the elevator operator squeaked.

Stannis cleared his throat and nodded.

Sansa managed to behave herself for the first five floors. After that the elevator music and the alcohol conspired to make her reckless.

“You didn’t tell me you were in the penthouse,” she said in an exaggerated breathy voice, moving to wrap her arms around Stannis’ neck and press her chest to his.

Stannis swallowed and his eyes darted towards the elevator operator before fixing on her. “Does it matter?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse.

“Not really,” she said, smiling lazily up at him. “But I bet the view is nice.”

He grunted, but the sound ended up being muffled due to the kiss she instigated. He hesitated for half a second before kissing her back, obviously a little worried about their audience. _Not worried enough to stop, though,_ she thought, her stomach swooping.

The elevator operator had to clear his throat three times before they realised they had reached the top floor. 

Sansa noticed Stannis slip the man a tip as they made their way out to the tastefully decorated corridor, and smiled giddily to herself.

There was only one door, and Stannis had they electronic key. Sansa followed him into the enormous apartment, her heart racing, and a strange sort of tension building inside of her.

“This is nice,” she said, looking around without really taking any of her surroundings in. All she could really think about was what she was about to do.

“It’s too much for one person,” Stannis muttered, the grumpy expression returning. “My secretary booked it.”

Something about his words eased the tension inside her. _Well, you’re not just one person anymore…_ She laughed and shook her head.

Stannis shot her a suspicious look, but she didn’t give him a chance to ask why she was laughing. She gathered her courage and walked right up to him, kissing him again.

It was not the same: kissing a man in a bar and kissing a man in a hotel room where they were all alone. He had all the power now. Running away would be difficult if he decided he didn’t want her to go. He’d probably be able to restrain her with one finger.

A thrill ran down her spine.

Stannis did not kiss her any differently now that they were alone, however. His lips were just as soft, his tongue just as eager and demanding, and his hands felt just as good as he stroked her back through her jacket.

“Off,” she said, trying to push her jacket off her shoulders. Stannis helped her. His hands stilled on her shirt afterwards, a question in his eyes. For a moment she froze, thinking hard about which bra she had put on earlier. But then she realised that she’d probably let him undress her even if she were just wearing a boring nude one. (Thankfully she was wearing a fairly nice black one to match her shirt.) She nodded, though her breath caught in her throat as she did, and he helped her take her shirt off, making sure not to knock the hat off her head in the process.

Suddenly shy, Sansa looked at her surroundings instead of at the way Stannis had apparently been struck dumb by the sight of her lace-encased breasts. It was a gorgeous room. There was a handsome bar and a few bar stools, several designer sofas and little tables with expensive-looking lamps and vases carrying enormous flower arrangements. A huge wall-to-ceiling window with a sliding door that lead to a balcony dominated the room. She couldn’t really see what was on the balcony because it was dark, but it looked big. “Bedroom?” she asked, feeling her cheeks heat up.

“Uh,” he said, blinking rapidly. “Yes. There are a few bedrooms.”

She smiled, still blushing. “Should we maybe go to one of them?”

He nodded, eyes flitting between her face and her chest. His face had turned red to match hers.

A gigantic bed with a modern leather headboard stood against the far wall of the bedroom, and the window curtains had been drawn. Stannis lit the lamps on the nightstand and turned to face her. He reached for the straps of her bra, obviously wishing to undress her further.

She backed away. “I think it’s your turn,” she said, lifting her chin.

Surprise and annoyance flitted across his face, but didn’t linger. He gave a curt nod and started to strip his uniform off with practised, efficient movements, looking utterly focused as he revealed more and more of his upper body.

 _Gods,_ Sansa thought, walking over to the bed. She had never seen a body like that in real life. Her knees actually went a little weak, and she sat down.

She knew that sometimes men wore jackets that exaggerated the breadth of their shoulders, and a good tailor could make nearly any waist look trim, but Stannis did not seem to need any help when it came to either feature. He was tall, athletic, and _built._

_If they’re all like this, I can see why Jeyne does the whole base bunny thing…_

Though the muscles were nice, Sansa was particularly fascinated by the dark hair that covered his pectorals and part of his abdomen, creating a trail that led… _down_. There was dark hair on his forearms, too. His very nice forearms. All parts of his arms were nice, actually. Shoulders, biceps, triceps, elbows... 

Hands. Hands that were currently at his belt buckle.

Sansa swallowed, wondering if it was entirely polite to stare like this, but unable to look away.

The hands did not unbuckle the belt. She frowned and looked at Stannis’ face. “You stopped,” she said. She could hear the pout in her voice.

He walked over to her and sat down on the bed beside her. “You’re wearing more than I am, now,” he said, kissing her neck, and touching one of her bra straps lightly.

 _Oh._ He wanted her bra to come off.

Feeling playful she stood up to face him and took his hat off her head. “There. Now it’s your turn again,” she said, shooting him a cheeky smile.

Stannis plucked the hat from her hand and placed it back on her head. “You can leave your hat on,” he said seriously, quirking a brow.

She burst into giddy giggles and sat back down next to him, feeling hot and tingly with excitement. She had never had an experience that was even remotely like this. She’d only ever undressed with boyfriends before, and both of them had known her for much longer than a few hours when they had first undressed with her.

Stannis didn’t say anything. He just found the clasp of her bra, and after a brief struggle and a few muttered curses, the cups were hanging loose.

Their eyes met, and Sansa tried to control her breathing. His lips parted, and his pupils blew out so far that she only saw a narrow band of blue around the black. She didn’t think it was just because the room was dimly lit.

His hands came up to touch her shoulders, and she shivered as he slid the straps of her bra down her arms.

He stopped to stare once her breasts were bare, and Sansa resisted the urge to cover up.

“May I?” he asked, his voice strained. He was holding a hand up, hovering near her chest but not touching.

She nodded quickly, still struggling to keep her breathing under control.

His hand was incredibly hot. Hot and big and _strong._ She made a small noise of surprise, and he loosened his grip at once.

“It’s okay,” she hurried to say, covering his hand with one of her own. “Here,” she showed him how she liked to be touched. He was a quick study, and she stopped guiding him before long, moaning with pleasure.

Soon she was lying down with him half on top of her, kissing her and stroking her breasts as if he had never done anything else. He seemed fascinated with her nipples, and she was glad of it. She didn’t think either of her previous boyfriends had ever spent so much time circling them and rolling them between thumb and forefinger, pinching lightly and flicking. Each little touch seemed to zip down to her centre, causing more and more wetness to gather, and making her want to squirm.

When he stopped she felt a jumble of feelings in quick succession: disappointment that he’d stopped, excitement about whether he was about to go back to his belt, and a fierce, overwhelming desire for more. She was thrilled when it turned out that he had only stopped touching her to make room for his mouth. He kissed his way down her throat - hot open-mouthed kisses that left her panting - licked between her breasts, and then he moved to cover one of her sensitive nipples with his lips.

The moan he managed to draw out of her by flicking his tongue over her nipple was embarrassingly loud.

She groped blindly for his belt and tugged on it uselessly. “Off, off,” she said, breathless and dizzy with want.

“Will you take yours off?” he asked, moving to kiss her other nipple.

“Yes, hurry,” she moaned, not caring that she wasn’t making a lot of sense.

There was a flurry of activity as they both worked to get rid of the rest of their clothes. (Even the hat, despite what Stannis had said about keeping it on.) Sansa’s heart sped up when she heard a clink of metal hitting the floor. _His belt buckle._ She wriggled faster, determined to get her jeans off.

They ended up sitting on the bed again, their bodies twisted to face each other, their eyes roaming downwards to examine bare legs. They had both left their underwear on. _The final frontier._ She was in black panties, he was in dark blue boxer briefs. _Navy blue,_ she thought, smiling to herself. There was an impressive bulge at the front of his boxers that made her fingers itch and her inner muscles clench up for a moment.

Before she had a chance to reach for him, he was kissing her again and guiding her body to the middle of the bed. He was half on top of her again before long, fondling her breasts, kissing her nipples, and then moving down to her bellybutton.

Face burning, she wondered if she should spread her thighs. Was that too presumptuous? He was going there, wasn’t he? She waited on tenterhooks, unable to make coherent sounds.

“May I?” he asked as he had asked before, his trail of kisses ending low on her abdomen. His hands were hovering at her hips, not quite touching her panties.

“Yes, yes -” she said, nodding and lifting herself up when he immediately started pulling her panties down.

He stared at her once he had her naked before him, and Sansa tried not to blush. Her skin seemed to heat up wherever his eyes lingered, and she had to close her eyes after a while just to calm herself down.

“You’re very beautiful, Sansa,” Stannis said, his voice strained and oddly formal. 

She opened her eyes to meet his, feeling more sincerely flattered than she had felt in a long time. “Thank you.”

They were both breathing a bit too fast, and Sansa couldn’t help but smile.

Suddenly he was on the move again. He muttered a few curses under his breath as he folded his large body up, kneeling between her legs. She parted her thighs as much as she could to accommodate him, feeling relieved that it hadn’t been too long since her last appointment with her waxer. Everything was fairly neat down there.

She gasped when he bent his head without warning, bringing his mouth to her folds and giving her a firm lick. He paused at the sound she had made and looked up at her.

“A bit gentler?” she said, biting her lip.

He nodded and tried again. It was better this time, but still not quite what she liked. She decided not to say anything, however, and tried to relax and let him explore a little.

He tried all sorts of different things, and never really stuck with the same movements for very long. It helped to get her absurdly wet, but it didn’t do much to build towards an orgasm. She knew why it wasn’t getting her close; he didn’t understand her body’s needs well enough, and she wasn’t concentrating properly. As much as she usually enjoyed foreplay, she was more interested in doing something about the empty ache that had been building inside her since the bar.

“Please,” she moaned, tugging lightly on the short hairs at the back of his head, “I need you inside.” Her face burned as she said the words, but she was determined not to be shy. Tonight she was a brazen seductress.

Stannis came back up to lie beside her, and she tried to help him take his boxer briefs off. Mostly she just groped him and got in the way, but he really didn’t seem to mind.

She made an involuntary little sound when she finally saw his cock. It was perfect. A solid length, thick enough so that she knew she’d really feel it, but not absurd, and a tiny bit curved as it strained to reach his abdomen. It was a lot of fun to see the end of the trail of hair she had admired earlier. There was quite a lot of hair at the base of his cock, curly and thick, and she could barely see the skin of his balls. Not that she was all that interested in his balls when there was such a fascinating cock for her to examine.

“You’re so...” she began, wanting to return Stannis’ compliment from before, but unable to find the words. “Wow,” she finished, blushing at her utter lack of eloquence.

Stannis swallowed and blinked at her a few times. He didn’t seem to have any idea how to accept the compliment.

Forgetting the empty ache that had been driving her mad for a moment, Sansa broke eye contact with Stannis and moved down to get a closer look at him. She wrapped her fingers around the base to get a better sense of its weight and girth, eliciting a grunt from Stannis that made her toes curl. She stroked him like she had learnt men usually liked to be stroked, and was delighted with the groan she got him to make.

When she licked the tip to get a taste - _hm, salty_ \- he gently pushed her away.

“Not now,” he said, his voice rough but also a little apologetic.

“Close?” she asked, crawling back up to look him in the eyes.

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down twice. He nodded.

“Do you want to be on top?” she asked.

“ _Yes,_ ” he breathed, leaning in for a kiss.

It was their messiest, wettest kiss yet, tongues everywhere, teeth clicking together, faces angling so they’d be able to practically eat each other alive. As they kissed, Stannis climbed on top of her, and Sansa spread her legs and lifted her knees, giving him all the access he could possibly want.

She moaned into his mouth when she felt him line his cock up, the blunt head notching in the right place and pressing forward a little.

He broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. “Okay?” he said, his voice strained. There was tension in every muscle of his face, and he was holding himself very still.

Sansa lifted her hips, eager for what was about to happen. “Yes, unless you think we need a condom?” she asked, remembering her health classes a little too late. Condom just weren’t something she’d ever really had to think about before. Previously when she’d had sex it had been with her boyfriends, and she had been on the pill since she was fourteen to help regulate her cycle and reduce the cramps that had made her life hell once a month or so since she was twelve.

Stannis blinked at her a bit blearily. “Er - are you on any kind of birth control?” he choked out.

“Yes, pill,” she said quickly, needing this stupid conversation to be over.

“Any other… issues?”

“All clear,” she said. “You?”

“All clear.” He was shaking a little, and Sansa wondered whether it was because of the effort it took to keep still.

She lifted her hips again, trying to tell him without words that she was ready.

He pushed inside with a couple of careful, experimental thrusts, and they both groaned, long and low. He was all heat, masculinity, and everything that had ever felt physically good, and Sansa wanted him to always be inside of her, stretching her like this.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he breathed, bottoming out and twitching slightly.

“Good?” she asked, knowing that it was - she could feel every inch of how delicious it was - but wanting to hear him say it.

“Very good…” his voice was throaty and deep, and it made her clench up.

“More,” she whispered, raking her nails down his back.

He did not need to be told twice. As soon as the word had left her lips, he was pulling back and thrusting forward again, more powerfully this time.

A little ‘ah’ of pleasure left her along with all the air in her lungs, and she moved her hands to cling to his shoulders. She had a feeling she’d need to hold onto something soon.

He paused and gulped down some air, kissing her cheek and anchoring his body more securely.

He did not pause after his next thrust, and soon Sansa was proven right. He found a hard, fast rhythm that had more little ‘ah’s escaping her, and forced her to dig her nails into his shoulders to keep her hold on his sweaty skin. It was good, but it was also a bit overwhelming.

She tried to wrap her legs around him and to meet his thrusts with her body, and it worked for a little while. He stayed buried deep for a little longer each time. But eventually she lost her grip, and he sped up, fucking her in a way that made her world narrow down to the sensation of being filled over and over, and the sound of wet fleshy slaps of body against body.

It didn’t take him very long to come. She didn’t feel it when it happened, but she heard the way his breathing changed, and the way he grunted in a new way. If she had opened her eyes, she was sure she could have seen it in his expression, but she kept them closed in concentration as she was pulsing with her own impending orgasm, right on the edge.

“Don’t stop,” she begged when his movements became slower and more erratic.

He groaned and clearly did his best, but she could feel his cock softening, and the feeling wasn’t the same anymore.

“It’s okay,” she said, opening her eyes and kissing him. “You can stop now.”

He gave her a bleary look and kissed her back. “Sure?”

She nodded, and he climbed off and collapsed beside her.

They were quiet for a little while, and Sansa let her mind wander. Her body was humming with arousal, and she could feel something warm and wet start to leak out of her, so she squirmed a bit.

“Have you really had an orgasm with your clothes on?” Stannis suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

Sansa let out a startled laugh. “What?”

“Before, in the drinking game, you said that you had.”

“Oh, that.” She tried to clear her head and think. “Well, yes. Did you think I was lying?”

“No,” he said at once. There was a pause. “I - I just wondered how it happened.”

“My first boyfriend had a motorcycle,” Sansa said, smiling to herself at the memory. “It was basically a giant vibrator.”

Stannis said nothing for a while. Then, in a very serious tone of voice, “I hope you wore a helmet.”

She stifled a giggle. “Of course I did.”

They were quiet again for a while, and Sansa thought about the drinking game.

“Stannis?”

“Mm?”

“You said you’d slept with ten people.”

“That was a lie,” he said, sounding irritated. “Davos made me drink a shot.”

She turned to lie on her side, propping herself up on one elbow so that she could look at his face. “How many people have you really slept with?” Sansa knew it wasn’t really a good question to ask under the circumstances, but Stannis knew her number, and fair was fair.

“Three,” Stannis muttered, not meeting her eyes. He looked embarrassed,

“Counting me?” she asked, trying not to show her amusement.

He nodded, still not looking at her.

Sensing that he was sensitive about the matter, she decided to change the subject. “So... when exactly was it that you came in your pants?”

His mouth dropped open and he looked at her, outraged and aghast. “What? I - you - what do you mean?”

“I saw you sneak that shot when Jeyne distracted all the others,” she said, even though that wasn’t entirely true. After Jeyne had left she had just noticed an empty shot glass where there had been a full shot glass, and put two and two together.

Stannis groaned and turned to lie on his stomach, burying his face in a pillow. “I was _thirteen,_ ” he said, his voice muffled. “A gust of wind could have made me come.”

“Was that what happened?” she asked, feeling thoroughly amused.

“ _No._ ”

“Then what?”

Stannis turned around with a huff and glared at her. “I was in class, and there was this… girl, and my hormone-riddled body decided it was worth getting excited about. I ran to the bathroom as soon as the bell rang, but just touching the fly to try to get my trousers open was enough to set me off.”

Sansa cuddled up to him and kissed him. “That’s adorable.”

He huffed again, but accepted her into his arms readily.

“Did you ask her out?” she asked after a little while.

“No,” he said. “My brother did. Though it was a few years later. He deflowered her in my room on prom night.”

“In your room?” Sansa raised her head so that she could gape at him. It was thoroughly strange to think of the former president of Westeros doing something like that.

“Apparently they were ‘too drunk’ to find Robert’s room, even though his room was closer to the stairs.”

Sansa could tell that Stannis was trying not to sound bitter, but he was failing rather spectacularly. “That was horrible of them,” she said, kissing Stannis again and wishing she could make the memory sting less. “Your brother should be ashamed of himself.”

“Robert doesn’t know what shame is,” Stannis said with a sigh.

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything. She just squirmed as more warm sticky stuff leaked out of her. _I should really go clean up._

After they had cuddled for a little longer, Sansa reluctantly broke away, telling Stannis she needed to powder her nose.

***

Stannis wondered how he had ended up in this rumpled bed with a gorgeous _naked_ woman on the other side of the bedroom’s en suite door. 

It didn’t seem real.

He looked down at himself. The smears of semen on his cock and the bed sheets were definitely real.

Guiltily, he let himself relive the moment when she had let him inside, and he tried to recall every last detail. _Wet and tight and perfect…_

A little too perfect, actually. His neck heated up at the thought of how quickly he had come undone. He hadn’t manage to give Sansa a single orgasm before his body had betrayed him. He had meant to use his mouth to try to give her one, but she had stopped him before he’d figured her out.

And he had let her stop him.

Stannis wrapped his hand around his limp cock, grimacing a little at the feel of sticky, cool semen that was beginning to crust up a little, and stroked himself experimentally. It felt… all right. But his body seemed more in the mood for sleep than more sex.

Age.

“Did you know there’s a hot tub on the balcony - oh, hello.”

Stannis let go of his cock as quickly as he could, feeling his face start to burn. He forced himself to meet Sansa’s eyes.

Sansa was biting her lower lip, and there was definitely amusement in her eyes, but she wasn’t laughing.

“Do you want to try it out?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“What?” All he could think about was the fact that though she seemed amused, she wasn’t mocking him. There was no derision, no disappointment.

“The hot tub? I found another door to the balcony in the en suite, and there’s an enormous hot tub out there.”

“I don’t have any swimming trunks with me,” Stannis said, both trying to mask his relief and trying to keep his eyes on Sansa’s face rather than on the parts of her body that she would probably - unfortunately - need to cover up if she went into a hot tub.

“I was thinking we’d go naked,” Sansa said, shooting him an impish smile.

His body’s desire for sleep faded away as the stirrings of fresh arousal began to course through him. He had never been naked in a hot tub with a beautiful woman. “All right,” he said, his voice hoarse and laced with disbelief.

“You should probably clean up a bit first,” Sansa said, glancing down between his legs.

He nodded.

“I’m going to go raid the bar in the living room,” she said, picking his dress shirt up from the floor and slipping it on. “Is that okay?”

He nodded again. “Call room service if you can’t find anything that interests you.”

As it turned out, Sansa found a bottle of Champagne and a couple of glasses. She also found the button that started jets of hot water going outside in the hot tub, making the water churn and froth.

She sat in his lap again, but this time they were naked, and surrounded by hot water. He had a few sips of Champagne, because honestly… why not? It tasted quite good, but not as good as Sansa’s nipples. When he told her this, she poured a bit of Champagne over her chest, shooting him another one of those impish smiles, and he wondered whether anyone would ever believe that he simply started to lick her breasts clean.

He felt as if he were inside some sort of vivid dream… hazy around the edges and a little topsy turvy. Was it the alcohol? Was it the sex? Or was it just this incredible woman in his arms?

Managing another erection seemed only natural, and he felt a fierce surge of masculine pride when Sansa gasped as he pressed it against her.

“Should we add more new experiences to the bank, then?” she whispered, her eyes alive with delight.

He nodded, feeling as if he would do anything she asked at this point.

She straddled him and sank down on his cock, moaning the whole time. He had to close his eyes at the intense sensation, and groan at the wonderful knowledge that he was really doing this with her, here, in the hot water…

It took them a little while to figure out how to move, but once they got the hang of it, it was _bliss._ The water made Stannis feel as if he were fucking her with his entire body, not just his cock, and Sansa just kept _moaning._

“Gods… Stannis… it feels so good,” she said after a while, and he felt her clamp down on him as she spoke.

He grunted and tried to fuck her harder, making water slosh merrily over the sides of the hot tub.

Sansa seemed ecstatic. Her head was thrown back to expose her throat, and her the ends of her hair were swirling around in the water, the jets making the tresses dance behind her. Her breasts were wet and bouncing a little as she and Stannis moved together, and the scent of Champagne was heavy in the night air.

“Please… don’t stop…” she begged, her nails digging into his back. “Oh gods… oh _gods…!_ ”

He could feel her inner muscles fluttering around him, massaging his cock the way the jets of water were attempting to massage the rest of him, and he groaned at the overwhelming pleasure of it.

Whether it was because he had already spent himself once, or whether it was because the water prevented him from being able to pound himself into her in the way that usually triggered his orgasm, he didn’t know, but he managed to last much much longer than he had the first time, and much longer than he could remember _ever_ having lasted.

By the time he finally came, Sansa had stopped making any coherent words.

Stannis knew how she felt. He was barely having coherent _thoughts._

He had no idea how they managed to get themselves back to bed, but somehow that was where they ended up.

He fell asleep feeling more content, more satisfied, and more genuinely _happy_ than he could remember feeling in his life.


	5. Epilogue

Davos had wondered now and again what had happened to Stannis on the night of his nameday party. He had gone to dance with Miss Stark, and then he had disappeared. Any questions about the matter over the following days were met with vague answers and Stannis’ usual scowls.

Now that a note and mysterious package had been delivered into his hands, Davos couldn’t help but become more curious than ever.

_To Captain Seaworth;_

_I am aware that we do not ordinarily exchange nameday gifts, as such frivolous trinkets serve no useful purpose. However, I believe I shall make an exception this year._

_Thank you._

_Adm. Stannis Baratheon_

Davos stared at the package and the attached note for a long time.

“Darling? Aren’t you going to open it?” his wife asked, shooting him a bemused look from her side of the breakfast table.

It wasn’t a big box, and it came open fairly easily.

Davos stared.

“Well?” Marya asked, sounding excited. “What is it?”

“It’s a medal,” he managed, still staring down at it.

“What? Is it for you?” Marya looked confused.

“It’s Stannis’ Medal of Honour,” Davos said, his voice coming out a little faint. “He earned it during the Greyjoy Rebellion.”

“Is he allowed to just… give it to you?” Marya’s eyes were huge and round.

Davos shrugged. “I suppose so.” As the shock of the gift wore off, and the memories of his nameday party became clearer, Davos began to smile.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Marya asked, sounding suspicious.

Davos shook his head. “No reason,” he said, a feeling of contentment settling in his bones.

If he wasn’t very much mistaken, his friend had finally found someone to love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! And extra big and special thanks to those of you who have commented! I hope you enjoyed the ending of the story. ♥


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